


your hands next to mine

by hippopotamus



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: 4+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 14:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19889290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippopotamus/pseuds/hippopotamus
Summary: When he takes the drink, his fingers brush Even’s.He clears his throat and mumbles out a “oh, uh, sorry, thanks,” and escapes before Even can even process any of it.





	your hands next to mine

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiiii this was a prompt on tumblr (hands brushing unexpectedly!!) for my lovely green heart anon, wherever u are  
> lots of love for uuuuuuuu  
> enjoy!

1

In equal measures, Even expects to be noticed, and to be completely ignored in his job. Some people see him almost too much when he hands them their coffees and smile at him as if he’ll remember them, while some don’t even so much as look at him.

He tends to prefer those ones, that don’t look. It’s much less pressure when people won’t notice the dark circles around his eyes on the days when he hasn’t slept, or the way that he fumbles as he’s making drinks so that he spills them on the counter, or, on a few occasions, on himself.

He prefers one in particular, that doesn’t look - and he’s sort of the exception, because Even wishes that he  _ would _ look. He’s always in the KB first thing in the morning, ordering the same coffee and staring down at his hands as he mumbles it. 

At first, Even had to ask him to repeat the order every time, but know he just knows what he gets, something he claims never to do because so many people come through for coffee.

On this particular day, he seems to be in a rush, or maybe a panic, nervously bouncing up and down, his foot tapping against the floor and glancing to check his phone every other second.

When Even finally calls for his attention and moves to place the drink down on the counter, the guy moves so fast that he’s taking it out of Even’s hand before it touches the surface.

In doing so, his fingers brush Even’s. 

The guy clears his throat and mumbles out a “oh, uh, sorry, thanks,” and escapes before Even can even process any of it.

Which isn’t actually difficult. He could have taken a month to get out of the door and Even still wouldn’t have processed it.

2

Mahdi introduces him to Isak in the bathroom at a house party two weeks later.

Even isn’t actually looking at him, too busy concentrating on the joint he’s rolling, until he hears the voice that says “oh, hey, I recognise you.”

At which point his head snaps up pretty fucking fast.

Isak is quick to continue. “I mean, you probably don’t recognise me, but you work at KB, right?”

Even smiles. “I recognise you,” he’s this close to revealing just how fucking weird he is, that he remembers Isak's coffee order. He quickly diverts his attention so that he can hide his face, and goes back to the joint while he waits for Isak’s reply. 

"Oh," is what comes, and Even pretends his heart doesn't jump at the fact that he can hear a smile in it. 

"You wanna share?" Even says instead, holding the joint up, then looking at Mahdi, whose weed it actually is. "If you're okay with that."

"Why do you think I called him over here?" 

They all settle in the bathtub, Mahdi in the centre, which is probably for the best. It's pretty chill, actually, at least to start with, easy conversation, good weed. Isak's not bad to look at, now that Even has a real chance. He knew that already, though.

It's only a little awkward passing the joint - Even only has to pass it to Mahdi, which is nice, simple, but for the sake of fairness, Isak then has to reach across Mahdi to give it to Even. 

Even actually feels his insides turn a little jelly-like when Isak says "Even?" to quietly get his attention. 

They only turn more jelly-like when he reaches for the joint, and his fingers brush across Isak's. 

It's not like this never happens with anyone else, Even has big hands, joints are tiny in comparison. No one cares if hands touch when it's passed, as long as the weed is getting to the right place. 

Regardless, Even doesn't stop thinking about Isak's hands, the brush of his fingers, all night. 

3

They're sort of friends now. Or, well, friends of friends. Still, it happens a few times that they hang out in the same circles, end up at the same parties or pregames.

One such evening finds them hanging out at Mahdi’s, no party on the cards that they’re aware of, but all of them too exhausted from the party the night before to consider one anyway. Isak is next to him on the sofa, grinning at him every now and then.

Someone - maybe Mikael - suggests just staying in and having a movie night, and surprisingly, everyone agrees, somehow easily - or easily enough - settling on watching The Dark Knight. Someone else suggests that they make popcorn, and then a few minutes later there are two bowls of popcorn between the two sofas full of people, the lights turned off and the movie playing, the opening shots voiced over by Mikael - “Even, none of your fucking commentary, okay?”

Even makes every effort to shut up - whenever he feels tempted to talk, he grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it in his mouth.

The bowl goes down fast - it’s not  _ just _ because of him, but he does play a significant part.

As the person in the middle seat, Isak has the bowl on his lap. Mostly, it’s not a big problem. Even just tries not to think about it as he reaches for popcorn - but no one else finds it awkward, so why should he?

But then, it kind of is, when Isak reaches into the bowl at the same time. When their hands collide on their quests for popcorn, and Isak clears his throat and mumbles a “sorry,” while Even is too distracted to speak.

He doesn’t go for any more popcorn after that - the bowl’s nearly empty anyway, and Even has no urge to comment on the movie, because he’s not even watching it.

4

When Isak comes to KB now, now that they’re definitely friends - follow each other on instagram and everything - he looks up when he orders.

He even smiles at Even, who glances behind to see that there’s no queue - there usually is, but this time, for once, there’s none, so Even starts a conversation. “How are you?” 

“Yeah, good thanks,” Isak replies. “You?”

Even half shrugs, half nods with his answer. “Tired, but I’ll live.”

Isak lets out a quiet hum of agreement. “Well, it’s half past seven, so that’s fair.”

“Yeah, true. Where do you go at this time?”

“Uh, the library,” Isak says, a little self consciousness working its way into his voice. “It’s quietest at this time, and my roommates are way too annoying for me to study at home.”

Even smiles, hoping that it comes across as kindness and not judgement like it seems Isak is expecting to see. “Oh, yeah, I get that. I mean, you’ve met Mikael, right?”

“I have,” says Isak. “But he’s great. Nothing like fucking Magnus.”

“Mikael is great,” Even agrees. “But try living with him.”

“Try living with Magnus,” Isak counters.

Even laughs. “Okay, I see your point.”

He finishes making Isak’s drink, and holds it out for him instead of putting it on the counter. 

“Hope this gets you through studying,” he says.

Isak takes it, and his fingers brush Even’s - slowly, this time. Almost - deliberate, maybe? 

Even’s no stranger to wishful thinking.

“Thanks,” he says, and meets Even’s eyes to smile.

It doesn’t answer the question. He’ll let himself believe it was deliberate.

  
  


+1

They’ve been friends for three torturous months now. Countless times Even has wondered - could it go further? Will Isak just give him a solid sign? But he never does - not one that Even can’t easily persuade himself that he’s misinterpreting. 

They leave a party early, together, walking with each other down quiet streets - though they left the party early, the rest of the world believes it’s late - it  _ is _ late. Dark and silent and peaceful, the perfect time for good things to happen.

Even had expected to spend the night as the only sober person at the party, until Isak had told him he’d been planning on staying sober, too. And, usually, staying sober is fine, he can enjoy it just as much as anyone else does, stay until the end of the night dancing and everything, but - he hadn’t wanted to tonight. Neither had Isak.

They’re walking together, and it’s peaceful, and it’s sweet, and Isak keeps smiling at him - Even keeps trying to smile back, but the butterflies in his stomach are making his heart jump out of his chest and with all the different sensations it’s hard to keep track of whether he’s managing to smile.

Even is swinging his hands by his sides, noticing bitterly that Isak’s hands are in his pockets. It’s that time of night where idiotic things happen, when Even convinces himself that the stupid plans are the best ones. The time of night when things get ruined, but every time they do, Even forgets, and tries again anyway. 

And then, Isak takes his hands out of his pockets. Not for any reason that Even can discern, but they swing next to his.

Their mindless conversation continues. Even isn’t keeping track of what it’s about - only focussing on the warmth he feels having Isak next to him.

The warmth he feels when the back of Isak’s hand brushes his - when his pinky finger reaches out and hooks around Even’s.

Even’s words stutter, he loses them quickly, almost stops walking in shock - but he forces himself to keep going, keep walking, keep holding Isak’s finger in place.

He doesn’t want to go to fast - or, he  _ wants _ to grab Isak’s hand, then grab his other hand, then lean right into him and kiss the smirk right off his face - but he’s been waiting long enough for this moment. Isak started it slowly, and Even will continue it in the same way.

He maneuvers his hand so that, soon enough, he’s holding Isak’s, and Isak’s contented sigh when it happens is such a nice one. 

A few seconds later, Isak pulls him to a stop, and turns to face him. Even turns too, their hands still linked between them.

“I thought I was just imagining things,” Isak says, almost shy - it’s a side of Isak that he’s barely familiar with, besides the times when he bought coffees without looking up - he’s never shy. “I kept trying to - I don’t know, drop hints, but you never took them.”

Even looks down in shame. “I didn’t want to come on too strong in case  _ I _ was imagining things,” he explains. “I mean, it’s happened before.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Okay, well, I think it’s safe to say that neither of us were imagining things,” he says, and Even nods. “So,” Isak continues, and takes a step forward. “Is this coming on too strong?”

He takes another step forward, his face inches from Even’s, their eyes meeting with an intensity that sends thrills through Even. 

“Definitely not too strong,” Even says, and closes the distance between their lips.


End file.
